Behind the mask
by AJigsaw
Summary: Jack is confused. He's having doubts. About himself. About the Court. And it was all because of a stupid conscious suddenly appearing, followed by a cat smelling of mint and a beautiful woman that might steal the heart Jack never thought he had.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to Behind the Mask. This story was initiated by FableLUVA584, whom decided that he wanted to have my OC, Mint, appear in a Fable story for Mint's _'world wide journey'_. He let me go crazy with the plot, much to my surprise, and for that I am thankful.

Have a good time dear readers. Enjoy the ride.

* * *

_Freedom, is a strange thing. You can think you have it, have as much freedom as you please, while you're unknowingly trapped as the person you are, or once were._

.

Jack took off his mask, throwing it frustratedly at the scarlet wall across the room. Sighing, he ran a tired hand through his pitch black hair. Everything was just pissing him off so much at the moment.

The Heroes, the Court, the Void, everything. He had been so troubled the past three days, he wasn't acting like the proud, unbeatable Jack of Blades at all. He didn't know why, but he was actually questioning his own actions, his own thoughts.

Jack frowned, suddenly hating the smell of blood coating him. He inwardly cursed his quickly changing attitudes. There were times when all he wanted was to drown the world in black, and watch blood flood the streets. And sometimes he hated the man, the Jack of Blades, for being so inhumanly cruel. He wasn't human by any means, but at the moment, that wasn't the point. Jack sighed again, wanting to leave his castle, leave this place and erase his very existence. Just, be anywhere but here. And not as the _Jack of Blades_.

The name brought bile to his throat.

Jack tore his clothes off, wanting to rid himself of the horrid stench of blood. He threw them across the room angrily, watching as they were consumed by fire. He put on a simple pair of black trousers after a short shower, leaving his muscular chest bare. Black locks were brushed by the cooling wind as Jack stepped out onto his balcony, enjoying the full moon shining down on him. The light made his skin glow a lovely pale color, even as his insides flipped upside down in turmoil.

Why did he start all of this again? Why did he need to see blood shed every time he turned around? What good was this doing? Why did he want it?

The questions kept pouring out, more and more that he had no answers to. He didn't know why this was happening to him. Why did he suddenly feel this way? Just a few days ago he had been perfectly content with watching people die, watching their blood flow around his boots. Jack closed his eyes, trying to keep the rage bubbling inside his chest from exploding in what he was sure would be the end of his beautiful castle. He slowly walked back inside, eyeing the other two masks on his bed that seemed to watch him.

_Mocking him._

He picked one up, the Queen, impossible to please. He threw it at the wall, almost hoping it would shatter. He slowly picked the other Court members mask up. The Knight, proud, and more arrogant than Jack would have liked.

That mask followed the other two, thudding against the wall with such force you would think they'd break.

Jack didn't even like them much, too noisy, irritating. They were arrogant, stuck up, snotty, little... He glared at the wall with the intensity of the sun, willing it to give him more insults he could use against his_ fellow_ members of the Court.

The Court. Jack snorted. What was the Court's purpose? To end the world, so they would have no where else to destroy? Ridiculous.

It just seemed so pointless. So suddenly. He cursed at himself._ 'You're pathetic. You're acting like a disgusting human. Bumbling about a damn conscience.'_

Jack rubbed his golden eyes, feeling tired and worn. Rest sounded very appealing to him right now, and the black haired man made his way into his large bed, resting his head against the soft white pillows.

Despite the hell going on inside him, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In what seemed like moments to Jack, a soft tapping sound on his door woke him. He slowly opened his golden eyes, wincing as the sunlight shone through the windows, right into them. Somehow throughout the night, the covers had been kicked halfway off of his bed, and a pillow was lying across the room, beside the three masks and his clothes- Oh! I mean ashes. Now how the hell his bed items got all the way over there, he didn't currently know. But he was sure that the author would eventually make it known. "You wish."

It was about then that he remembered that someone was knocking on the door.

"What?" Jack called out grumpily.

"Y-your breakfast, sir." A maid squeaked from behind the door.

"Leave it, I'll get it later." Jack grumbled, snuggling his face back into the pillow.

"Yes sir." The maid said quietly, her light footsteps retreating from the door. Jack sighed and glared into the darkness of his pillow, knowing he wouldn't be getting back to sleep now that the soon to be dead maid had woken him.

"damn." he whispered to himself.

The more he thought about it, the more food sounded nice, depending on whether or not he wanted to get out of his warm bed of course. Golden eyes turned to slits as Jack frowned and contemplated catching his mask on fire, just to relieve a little stress. The likeliness that it would burn were low anyway, just might make him feel a little better. Jack lay there sprawled out across his bed, thinking about whether to eat, get dressed, stay in bed, or incinerate something. He finally decided to eat, incinerating his dresser on the way.

He sat back on his bed, picking off tiny bites of the warm bread, just out of the oven no doubt, and watching the flames dance. Jack watched the fire consume the wardrobe as he took a drink of the milk the maid had so kindly given him. Jack blinked, lips pursing against the cool glass as he realized his clothes were in the dresser... clothes that he needed... because he was half naked. Jack spit some of the milk out in surprise, choking on the white liquid that found it so funny to hurtle its way down his throat.

Soon enough the fire was out, and he was saving what clothes hadn't been burnt from the now black dresser while cursing like a filthy sailor for forgetting something so simple. After picking decent clothing to wear for the day, he left the wardrobe for the maids to clean up and retrieved his three masks from the corner. Clasping the two masks to his chest, he made sure to put the one that specifically belonged to him on his face. The Jack of Blades ground his teeth, remembering the incident that happened not even a month ago. People looked at him and screamed bloody murder, he didn't even have to touch them. It was a couple hours later that he realized he had put on the Queen's mask. A stupid, simple minded mistake. A very unJack-like mistake.

Jack made his way through the halls of his castle, ignoring the maids and guards that bowed as he quietly walked past them. Thoughts of the Queen danced through his mind and he shuddered, remembering the brown haired woman's... unique, way of punishing you for accidentally catching one of her favorite cloaks on fire. Jack breathed in the crisp morning air as he walked out to the training grounds, stretching his shoulders. He hoped that a little swordplay would help ease his conscience and make it disappear like the annoyance it was.

The Void resider unsheathed the sword at his hip and summoned some minions to play with, smiling wickedly underneath his purple and red mask. Once summoned, the minions looked at each other fearfully, seeing who it was they were supposed to battle. With small nods and gestures, they dared one another to go and take the first move. Eventually one clothed in blue and equipped with a spiral staff came at him, swinging wildly. Within ten minutes every last minion had vanished, not a trace remaining.

Jack clenched the Sword of Aeons. The empty spot in his chest wasn't filling up, it almost felt as though it was worse, as if someone had stabbed him through. Fury flooded through him, funneling out his fingertips into ruby fire, burning anyone and anything that had been at the training grounds. He walked away from the mess, heading once again to his charred room. He slammed the door closed, and headed straight for the balcony, wishing to feel the cooling air in peace. He stepped out into the quickly fading light, putting his hands on the railing and looking out to the cities he planned on destroying. Once again his insides flipped with disgust, seeing the pathetic creatures running around.

Jack's insides flipped again, sending what he expected to be his breakfast up into his throat. He bent over, black hair brushing the railing as he willed the food back down. When nothing changed, Jack sped off to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach into the white bowl. Resting his throbbing head against the cool porcelain, he sneered at himself. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting, puking like a sick child. Pathetic. A fist dropped down on the edge of the toilet, sending bits and pieces of porcelain scattering across his bathroom floor.

No. Jack stood, his hand making it's way up to his mask. Not tonight. His hood slid down, freeing his short, spiked black hair to the dim bathroom candles.

Tonight, there would be no _Jack of Blades_. He was going to town and leaving his mask behind, if only for one night. Jack stared blankly at his mask, not knowing whether to be gentle with it, in fear of it breaking, or throw it across the room, praying for it to shatter into a million damn pieces. His dolden eyes closed, he never even got any alone time to think, with that damn mask watching him every second, a constant reminder of the Queen and Knight. Without another thought he tossed it carelessly aside, silently hoping it to break.

After a shower Jack wordlessly got dressed into a pair of black trousers, slightly baggy but still resembling assassin wear. Putting on a simple maroon tunic, a color matching his Jack of Blades cloak, he threw his dirtied clothes into a small basket by the door, awaiting to be emptied by the maids. Jack's pale hand brushed across the sheath of the Sword of Aeons and he froze. Jack thought, coming up with three problems that he would need to tend to before leaving.

A. Leaving the Sword of Aeons, where anyone could take it, should they find out about him being gone.

B. Leaving his beloved castle, where champions come to fight and only one to stay, and going to town... unarmed...

C. Well, now that he thought about it there wasn't even a C... Ah, yes.

C. Leaving the mask. Period...

He could easily hide the Sword of Aeons in one of his multiple hidden safes, along with his mask. As for being unarmed... Jack raised his head and cackled. Well, he's never unarmed...

Jack smiled, smelling the fresh air as he stepped out onto his balcony, slowly making his way to the railing. Hopping over it, he easily landing in the soft grass stories below and looked back at his castle, a small smile hidden in the decreasing light. No longer the Court, a Hero, a Champion. If only for a night, he was leaving everything he knew and was going to have some alone time.

Freedom, is a strange thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Hope you are enjoying the story and thank you all that reviewed.

* * *

Jack stopped, remembering the last time he stepped in this town..

..he was burning it to the ground.

Oakvale looked much better now, the houses and stores were rebuilt well from what he could see. The damned guards hadn't come and lit the lanterns yet though. Jack snorted, lazy humans. With a wave of his hand he lit the rest, fire sprouting from the wicks as he called it forth. Brushing his hands on his pants, Jack headed down the hill, passing two stores that seemed to be on fire every time his golden eyes glanced at them. The black haired man quickly got to his destination, the beautiful beach with light brown sand, in perfect view of the ocean. If only people could stop their puny lives for a moment to see what beauty lies right beside them. Jack sat down on the cool sand, watching the moonlight wash over the waves.

This, this was what he would miss when the world was turned to hell. When HE turned it to hell, Jack thought sadly. The ocean, the sky, the grass, the sand. It was all so peaceful, silent, almost untouched by humans.

Jack's castle wasn't close enough to let him see the ocean, and he had almost forgotten what the fresh air smelled like, without it being coated in a thick stench of blood and sacrifice. Murder, malice, blood, swords, clashing and slicing. Loud and oh so fucking obnoxious. Always brought him to wonder why he lived at the arena. Jack sighed, the peacefulness of the ocean was just starting to lull him to sleep when-

"Meow."

Jacks eyes shot open, surprise and annoyance darting across them.

"Meoow."

He looked to the side, seeing a small gray and white speckled kitten sitting there staring at him intently.

"Me. Ow."

Annoying little animal. He had it clear in mind to flick it across the beach, but somebody might think something's up if they see some guy punting a kitten out into the sunset.

"Meow!"

Jack closed his eyes, ignoring the kitten, much to it's distaste, and tried to doze off once more. Another annoyed meow had him wondering if it would really be all that bad sending the cat's furry tail to infinity and beyond.

Jack propped himself up on his elbows and gave the kitten his most sarcastic glare.

"I'm sorry, am I in your spot?"

"Mee. Yow."

"Bugger off." Jack mumbled, laying down again, ignoring the kittens pleas for body removal. All seemed to be quite for a few moments, nothing but the small lapping of the waves, until something warm and fuzzy plopped down on his chest.

Jack glared at the inferior animal laying on his chest, to see it giving him the smuggest look you could ever imagine.

"You're quite the cocky pussycat, aren't you." Jack growled at it, only earning a yawn in reply. The small kitten laid down on his stomach, curling up in a tight ball and fell asleep.

Jack felt his eye twitch. Was HE, the Jack of Blades, last remaining survivor of the Court and Champion of Champions, let this tiny, inferrior, minty smelling beast sit on his stomach as if it were king?

Well, the kitten WAS warm, so the fearsome Jack of Blades set his back against the soft sand again and let the furry little kitten lay there. For now. At least until he kicked said furriness to Timbuktu... Or Hook Coast.

"Cute cat."

Jack peeked open his eyes, a shadowy figure blocking out the sun. Jack sat up, the speckled kitten writhing in surprise as it fell off his chest. He looked out at the sea, the waves were more violent now, crashing against the dock threateningly. Men carrying boxes on the dock wobbled and stopped to look out at the sunkissed waves for a moment.

"Damnit." Jack muttered, jumping up with the cat in his arms. He wasn't supposed to sleep for that damn long, cursed cat and it's... Cuddliness...

Jack turned to leave but stopped, noticing the furry beast in his arms. Wind blew through his black hair as he stood there, trying to figure out what to do with the kitten. Jack turned to the blindingly blonde haired woman beside him, seemingly just now noticing her. Confused shown in her eyes, and slight concerned as she stared at him.

"Here." Jack said, keeping his face emotionless, and shoved the kitten in her arms, turned, and ran like hell, leaving the woman and cat to wonder what on earth his problem was.

* * *

Jack sighed into his pillow. The day had been severely boring. A couple of stuck up guards and heroes trying to complete the fights and become the Champion. And dying, I might add. They failed. So badly. Worse than...

Well, they suck is the gist of it.

Jack gave his pillow another sigh and turned his head towards the open window, light striking in his eyes. Behind his eyelids he saw a shadow fall over him and quickly disappear. Jack shot up and grabbed his sword from the side of his bed, pointing it at the intruder.

Which was nothing.

No one.

He wondered if he'd been seeing things as he laid back down on his bed. He couldn't sense any power in his room, accept for the outrageous amount flowing off of his own body. No threat whatsoever. Jack rolled his eyes and turned over to fall back asleep. Sleep must have had a grudge on him that day, for none came. Nightmares and horrible memories filled his head. Replaying in his eyes over and over. Jack sat up, slamming his hands down over his ears, trying to quiet the agonizing screams of the Knight and Queen.

Jack rolled out of his bed, slowly heading to the bathroom to take a shower. Showers usually calmed him down, at least for a few moments. He stopped in front of the mirror on his way to the shower, wondering for a moment, what he actually looked like. Of course he had seen himself before, but it's surprisingly easy to forget when you have the picture of a mask burned into your mind. Three to be exact. Jack turned and stared at his own reflection, trying to recognize the man he saw. Black spiked hair covered his forehead and traveled down to his mid neck, a few small wisps falling beside his golden eyes.

He wasn't the Jack of Blades. He was just a man with weird eyes and a powerful sword. Jack smirked to himself, it sounded like something the Knight would try to insult him with.

_'You need a fucking haircut is what you need!'_ The memory of the Knight jokingly yelling at him echoing in his head. It was actually one of the nicer memories, much better than the ones of growing up in the Void. And much much better than the memory of trying to spar with a severely pissed off Queen.

Screams inside his head wiped the smile and memory clear from his mind. Jack winced, clutching his head.

_'They were annoying, arrogant, loud! They deserved to die.'_ Jack told himself, trying to drown out his fellow member's screams of pain echoing continuously in his head. _'They were foolish, dying at the hands of Black. They didn't try hard enough. I'm glad they're gone. They deserved it. They deserved it. They...'_

"They, didn't deserve it." Jack whispered to the empty room. He fell to his knees, silent tears escaping his tightly shut eyes. "They were arrogant, merciless, loud. But they were my family. They didn't deserve to die that way. They didn't."

Jack clutched his hair, gloved hands debating whether to rip it out in frustration or burn something. Finally the voices gave him a rest, the painful echoes coming to a slow stop, never quite ending but silent enough to ignore.

He stood, not bearing the risk of looking at his reflection, and shattered the mirror with his fist. Blood and glass showered the bathroom tiles, staining them. Jack simply turned on the shower and stripped, stepping in when it was warm enough. His thoughts were plagued by his first breakdown since the death of his... Family? They hurt him, purposely, used him as a punching bag on more than one occasion. Jack remembered almost killing the Knight when he had finally gotten sick of it and fought back. It was an accident, but being sorry doesn't stop the flow of blood.

Jack sighed to himself as he stepped put of the shower. Dusk had fallen, the sun no longer shining on the bloody tiled floor.

For once Jack cursed his unique ability. As Jack had found out in an experimental sparring session with the Queen, soul possessing was his unique own ability. It made him proud to have something that the Queen and Knight didn't. And he showed his pride daily, taking over the body of the Knight on more than one occasion, much to the Knight's resentment.

Jack dressed himself, his eyes darting out to his balcony. Perhaps another small journey to Oakvale would ease his mind? Jack gave his empty room a search, his eyes darting to a familiar mask. His mask. It lay upon his new dresser, courtesy of the maids, along with the similar masks of the Knight and Queen. He looked at them, and then the balcony, where his so called freedom awaited. Another sigh echoed through the room, only reminding him of the emptiness.

Jack smiled as his boots hit grass, the wind rustling his dark hair as he made his way towards the ocean. The fresh air smelled nice, and although memory made it smell burnt once he stepped into town, he brushed it off.

"Meow."

Jack froze, instantly recognizing the mewling. Turning, he saw the same furry beast that annoyingly sat on his chest throughout the previous night. The kittens unique minty smell tingled his nose, filling what was once doubt with knowing. This most certainly was the very same kitten.

"You."

"Meow."

"I strongly dislike you, cat."

"Meow."

Jack sighed. He obviously wasn't getting anywhere, quite literally. So he moved on, ignoring a very unhappy kitty. Speaking of which, said kitty growled and followed the large man, trotting under his feet.

The Court member made his way along the path towards the beach, feeling the company of the speckled gray kitten the whole way. Suddenly it's presence disappeared, bringing Jack to a sudden stop. Turning, he saw the kitten crouched a few feet away, staring into a dark alleyway with it's ears flat against it's head and a bushy tail starting to appear. Jack raised an eyebrow at the kitten before sighed again, and slowly sneaking back to see what the kitten was staring at. Curse his curiosity. Peeking around the corner, he saw two large men standing over a small slouched figure on the ground.

"Just empty it out dude!" The first man growled out.

"Shhhh! The guards will hear us!" The man's accomplice whispered, shaking a large drawbag presumably belonging to the person on the ground.

A thin, silver sword fell out, clattering against the ground with the rest of the bags contents.

"Woah. Check that out Dean." The second man said.

"Holy cow, Martin, we can get a bunch of money out of that!" The first man said.

"Shhhh! Dumbass! Stop being so damn loud!" The man presumably named Martin threateningly whispered at the now named Dean, who didn't seem threatened at all, by the way. Probably because of the three foot height difference between the two muggers. Martin snatched the sword up, the beautiful carvings on it shining in the full moon. A small red jewel sparkled at the hilt, glowing like the eye of a demon. It seemed familiar to Jack, although for the immortality of him, he couldn't figure out where from.

"Put my sword down. Now." The figure on the ground grumbled at Martin and Dean. The female voice sounded dark and horribly threatening. She picked herself off the ground slowly, obviously injured. Silver hair shone in the moonlight, falling down slim shoulders and just brushing the moist earth. Blood trickled down her arm, creating a small pool at a dip in the ground.

Jack's eyes narrowed to slits, this woman was injured badly, she couldn't take these large men on no matter how hard she tried. He turned and started walking off to the beach. The kitten stared at him, appalled that he would walk off and leave an injured girl. Jack continued on his quest, ignoring the cried of protest from the little kitten at his feet. Suddenly the little animal stopped right in front of his foot, tripping him. Putting one hand on the ground, he easily shifted his weight and flipped over the kitten. Jack stood from his crouched position and brushed himself off, glaring at the minty smelling animal.

"Bad cat."

"Mrrrow!"

Jack sighed and shook his head. "I don't know her. Why the hell should I help?"

The speckled kitten hissed at him, the fur along her spine standing to attention. Jack simply smirked at the young animals attempt to look threatening and gave the streets one last sigh.

A swift kick to the head threw the girl a ways away, making the world spin around her. These men had her supplies, her food, her money, her sword. The guild master wouldn't be very happy if she lost her sword, even if it was evil. It was a gift, a family heirloom, it was precious to her. And even if it killed her, she was going to get her sword into safe hands. Suddenly a dark, mocking voice rang out through the alleyway, before darkness finally overcame her, her emerald green eyes looked up to see a man standing there, golden eyes shining threateningly in the dim light.

"What gentlemen, taking a young woman's things while she injured and helpless. You should be ashamed."

Jack's words were followed by the whisper of the wind between the trees, the slight quiver of the ground beneath their feet, and the ruby glow of the fire entwined between his fingers.


End file.
